Thursday, December 27, 2012

Resolutions


So the house still hasn’t sold, even after what seemed to be a promising showing.  After an expletive-filled e-mail to the husband, several expletive-laced rants in my office, and a LOT of assessing what kind of damage various objects on my desk could do to the wall…you know, just in case I felt like throwing something (don’t judge.  The last time I threw a bottle across the kitchen, I got a husband.  You never know what irrational anger will bring.  Sometimes it’s a broken produce drawer in your fridge.  Sometimes it’s a spoon-shaped dent in your  wall.  And sometimes it’s a diamond ring.  Win some, lose most.)  Anyway, once I’d fought off the feelings of arson and staging a house burglary (can someone steal your house?  If so, I’d like their number.  We can leave it under a bridge or something, right?  Again, blanket apology, dear insurance agent.  BLANKET.) I decided to change my frown upside down (and not by falling off a bar stool) and think of things with a positive spin.  So, in the spirit of American bootstraps, I’ve decided to let go of the things out of my control and focus on the things that I CAN change.  And so, I present to you:  The Angry Curl’s New Year’s Resolutions. 

1.  Expand my vocabulary.  I am a lover of all things word and so I plan to take my every day vernacular up a notch.  I’m also a lover of all things cursing, so I’ve decided just to make up my very own, very new curse words.  I’m thinking the world needs more ways to express frustration inappropriately and I think that I’m just the perfect flitch to do it!  After all, I’ll be schnucked if I can’t exercise my American right to free speech and everyone enjoys a good threeping now and again.  Chank yeah! 

I don't know what this means.  I just enjoy the phrase "unique profanity."  

2.  Continue my campaign of “50 Shades of Grey is Complete Horse Chank.”  I know I’ve written about the horrible, horrible things contained between the covers of “50 Shades of Grey” but I feel my voice isn’t being heard over the sound of numerous cracking whips across America.  You see, I could care less that some dude wants to get his S&M on with some chick…getcha some, you helicopter-flying stud, you.  If you want to go to your weird,  actually sounds kinda awesome, totally-legal-in-most-states room and have your way with some girl’s inner goddess, then by all means, get after it.  But I must ask the author of this “story” to stop writing like a girl who has just discovered the many meanings of our friend, the f-bomb, and realize that “50 Shades” is like attending a Carrothead show – there may be a lot of fun, shiny toys in the beginning but you’ve definitely lost some brain cells by the time it’s over.   

The Internet meme needs to know! 

3.  I will finally find Jack White in our great city and do questionable things to him until the police arrive. 

Let the inappropriate behavior begin...now.

4.  I will discontinue the use of the word “bestie.”  I’m not sure where this got started (I blame…actually…I have no idea.  But it’s someone’s fault.  And if I knew that someone, I would blame him.) but I feel that this trend’s course has been run and it’s time for the phrase to go the ways of “Eat my shorts” and “Totes.”  The aggravation of this really stems from a previously-discussed hatred of abbreviations.  “Best Friend” and “bestie” both contain 2 syllables.  One is no more difficult to say than the other, so why not go with the option that encompasses two actual words in the English language instead of the one that inspires a red, squiggly line underneath it in Microsoft Word? 
Not if you keep talking like that.

5.  I will sell my house!  I hear the real estate market is really on the upswing!

My version of porn at this point.  

6.  I will also stop being so optimistic about the housing market.  Because it’s shit. 

My reaction to what is now very, very bad porn.  

7.  I will implement my “Throwback Curse Words Preservation Tour” to make sure that “threeping” doesn’t replace its counterpart for future generations.  Because ALL people deserve to know the origins of threep and its proper use in modern day English. 

I don't know these people, but it looks like they've already gone through the work of planning out a world tour.  Thanks, coat tails of Colleen and Michael.  

8.    I will put the finishing touches on my one-woman show, “Road House: Pain DOES Hurt.  Just Not Patrick Swayze.” 

The best damn cooler in the business.  

9.   I will complete construction of my life-sized Candyland board in my backyard (once I get a backyard.)  If anyone knows of a bulldozer I can rent for the molasses swamp, please let me know. 

Just wait until you see my plans for the Candy Cane Forest! 

10.  Finally, I’m going to talk less.  It dawned on me recently that everyone is talking.  Always.  Is anyone actually listening or, to steal a quote from Pulp Fiction, are they waiting to talk?  Why do we feel the need to be heard so much?  Interrupters, loud talkers, pretentious flitches – verbal communication is exhausting.  I’m tired of fighting to have my thoughts heard.  The ones who actually care about it will shut the F up and listen.  And then they will hear filthy rants about the fake Becky years on “Roseanne” and vanilla-scented candles. 

Say "what" again! 

11.  I also resolve not to leave a blog with a serious ending such as #10, so here’s a joke:
Two muffins are sitting in an oven.  First muffin says to the second muffin, “It’s getting hot in here.”  Second muffin replies, “Holy chank, a talking muffin!” 

It's hard not to laugh when you say muffin.  


Happy 2013, y’all.  May it be filled with the glorious silence one only receives when she’s alienated everyone around her by screaming fabricated obscenities while chasing Jack White down Broadway.  

9 comments:

  1. A few points. I usually fall under the category of "waiting to talk...in other words...I am an asshole. 50 shades of gray is terrible. True, I have never read it, but I loathe rich douchebags, so I don't think I want one tying me to a bedpost. Also let me know when you are Jack White hunting. The closest I have come is being in the same concert venue as him once, seeing his ex wife discipline his kids while I was waiting for a tow truck, and having him pass me and offer a blanket apology to those in line when I didn't get into the Third Man Conan show. I feel like I am destined for more...I mean at least 3rd base. Jamie totally would high five me and not care in the least.

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  2. The fact that Jack White pretty much directly communicated with you makes me incredibly jealous...I've seen him once, but no words were exchanged. Sigh.
    And just take my word about "50 Shades." Never have I gotten angry while reading (unless it's an essay on why "Clueless" sucks) but I came close to throwing this tome across the room.
    Jack White season opens soon...I'll be on the lookout from my tree stand on 8th.
    Oh yeah - I'm an asshole, too. Admitting it is the first step to not doing a damn thing about it. Hehe.

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    1. I like to think he was talking to me and only me...but truth be told, it was just a courtesy to all of us that had been waiting in line all day and wouldn't get to see coco shake his thang in person. (I'm still bitter).

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  3. Jack White had panty lines that time we saw him. Tighty White Stripes.

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  4. Jack lives just scant minutes from my house. His iron gate is totally scale-able. And sorry about my "bestie" status update yesterday . . .

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  5. All is forgiven for the location of Jack White...haha!!

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  6. It's Carrot Top, Not Carrothead. (I can't believe I actually get to correct something YOU typed!!!)

    I loved the Gray paint swatch.. Nice touch.

    Good Luck on the house situation, I hope it happens for y'all soon!

    Dave

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    1. I would love to say that I typed it like that on purpose to avoid legal action from Mr. Top's lawyers, but let's face it - I doubt Carrot Top has lawyers.
      Wish I could take credit for the paint swatch, but that has to go to my friend, Google Image Search.
      And thanks for the well wishes - when we DO sell the place, you'll hear the scream all the way to Chattanooga!

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